BRITART REVIEWS:
Jordan Baseman, Ken Currie
and 100 Years of the Laing

Laing Art Gallery, Newcastle
Upon Tyne
Who Is The Laing Art Gallery For?

The Laing Art Gallery in Newcastle Upon
Tyne celebrates its centenary with a new set of exhibitions.
The exhibits sit together disjointedly in a way that one of them,
Lonesome Town by Jordan Baseman, questions in terms of
where identities should be placed.

Jordan Baseman's Lonesome Town

A drag artist stares you down, waiting for the
right moment to begin. Suddenly he/she breaks into a rendition
of Lonesome Town. His/her voice is dispassionate and dispairing.
The effect is thoughtful rather than genuinely emotional. The
video is unremarkable but contemporary enough to demonstrate
that the Laing Art Gallery acknowledges the present. So is that
why it's here? Is it part of a program to be relevant? Or was
this video chosen because the drag artist is from Newcastle?
Or is this a claim that Newcastle is a lonesome town for people
with broken dreams? In fact, why this work is here at all is
the question that can be asked about everything else currently
on show too, for the Laing has difficulties with its identity
that is well testified by Baseman's forlorn singer. Just who
exactly is the Laing Art Gallery aimed at?

Confused? You will be..

The current mix of shows sitting alongside
Lonesome Town includes an historical account of Edwardian
Newcastle; two displays from the Laing's permanent collection,
one with no stated or visible connection between the works, and
another curated by locals; recent paintings by Ken Currie alongside
work by other artists apparently picked for no better reason
than their being alive; and a Private Eye sponsored show of work
by the satirist William Hogarth.

What appeals to one punter seldom appeals
to another. Trying to attract anyone and everyone all at once
weakens each show's impact and dissuades future visits. The
only discernable intention in exhibitionary hotch-potch is desperation.
The message reads like a scatter-gun plea for an unidentified
audience. Watching the visitors walking around in their supermarkety
daydream reminds you of those times when you forget why you've
walked into a room.

Ken Currie and His Contemporaries

This may sound completely disparaging, but a lot
of what's on offer is very good, just badly placed. Ken Currie's
paintings have a sensitivity towards victims of violence that
is empathic and refreshingly unsensationalised. His figures may
or may not be dead. They float in a calm after the storm from
man's inhumanity to fellow man. They form a tranquil point for
reflection on what it is to be alive. They carry such weight
as to demand a space on their own. But no. They breathe their
studied air alongside incongruous pieces by Chris Ofili, R B
Kitaj and Frank Auerbach in what becomes a scrum of famous names
instead of a meditative testimony to healing.

Attention To Detail?

There are smaller-scale problems which
also add to the confusion. In the same Ken Currie room there
are some Marcel Breur chairs. It's only when you consider their
Bauhaus origin isn't contemporary that you realise they're not
part of the show. Of course, no chair placed in a gallery is
free from its associations - it is a sign that can be read or
misread - but Breur's hardly sink into the background. They are
radical pairings of tubular steel and leather. They are massive
20th century design icons. They are too noticeable to be incidental
objects in a gallery. This is an oversight that shows a want
for attention to detail. And it is alas not isolated.

Jordan Baseman's video is installed in
a hall with massive light spills from either side and above it.
Dominating the artworks in the foyer is a huge and bright abstract
by the late Gillian Ayres. Enjoy it if you can view it without
squinting from the lamp above it that is angled outwards. And
this lamp illuminates... guess what? A Patrick Heron or other
West Country formalist painting perhaps? No. Edward Jeffrey's
Art Pottery from 1932-34. Surrounding these are equally incongruous
works at least 4 of which are without any labelling. Across the
floor hang some war paintings. Que? The labelling for one of
these lies at 45 degrees, having partially detached itself from
the wall. Perhaps it is trying to escape?

And why not? Escaping from the foyer is
easy. You simply walk out through their shop which sells... guess
what? Glassware, cushions and other craftware placed alongside...
yes, you've guessed it - a rackful of Art Monthly, the
contemporary art magazine for avante-gardists everywhere.

Other Exhibitions at the Laing

However, you may be tempted to stay for
the remaining shows, each of which raises its own questions in
respect of the Laing's mixed identity.

Edwardian Newcastle - 100 Years of the
Laing is a diverse affair. Artefacts
range from a Lepidodendron (a tree fossiilised in local coal)
to a telephone from 1900 to tram tokens. But social histories
are difficult to push in the age of museum interactivity. Is
this the rationale behind the piece entitled Enjoy these Edwardian
games with your family and friends?

From The Vaults 13
displays work from the permanent collection curated by people
recovering from drug and alcohol problems at a residential home.
Their recovery process is reflected in works showing peace, distress,
containment and departure. Is the From The Vaults series
then a gesture towards finding out how the Laing's audience thinks?

Hogarth - The Election Paintings and
Prints is a triumph, and the pick
of the bunch. Packed with scurrilous filth, it includes Hogath's
contemporaries and British satirical cartooning right up to Steve
Bell's reduction of John Major to a pair of burning underpants
sinking in the Thames outside the Houses of Parliament. There
are nice touches like short Election Facts notices to give historical
context, and an actual ballot box from 1872 along with its legal
history. You can't help but wonder why the Gallery's overview
isn't this together?

The Next 100 Years?

A legend welcomes the Laing's visitors
with: "The strange location and rather muddled current arrangement
of the Laing Art Gallery are due to its origins". This is
half-right. Muddled it certainly is, but claiming this is due
to its origins denies any responsibility today. The Laing Art
Gallery needs to decide on who it's appealing to. When it does
this, it then needs to address those detail problems. And it'd
better get its skates on. The Baltic Flour Mills opens as a huge
modern art gallery with millenium funding in March next year,
so the Laing's next 100 years, if it indeed sees them, will be
fiercely competitive.